


Photo-Proofed Kisses

by Popples123



Category: Fall Out Boy, My Chemical Romance
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Angst with a Happy Ending, Closeted Character, Coming Out, Fluff and Angst, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, M/M, Non-Graphic Smut, School Dances, Secret Relationship, my friend said Gabe should win an award for best supporting character, these are vague though
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-20
Updated: 2018-07-20
Packaged: 2019-06-13 08:16:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,027
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15360144
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Popples123/pseuds/Popples123
Summary: “One day the trees will be buildings,” Mikey speaks surprisingly confidently and loudly. Pete smiles, contemplating whether he should catch up or wait for Mikey to come back.“One day the stars will be streetlights.”“And the birds people, and you mine.”~~Mikey is scared to come out to those around him. Pete vows to support him no matter what.





	Photo-Proofed Kisses

**Author's Note:**

> I'm actually really proud of this so I hope you all enjoy !!  
> The song lyric at the very beginning is from Secret Love Song by Little Mix, which I drew majority of the inspiration for this fic from. The lyric in the title is from GINASFS by fob.

_You and I both have to hide on the outside, where I can't be yours and you can't be mine._

~~

Love is hopeless but Mikey has hope. Pete first notices it in the school canteen when Mikey is sat opposite from him and one seat to the left. Separated and invisible, just what Mikey likes. Attracting attention is a great fear of his and avoiding doing so requires Pete to follow endless boundaries Mikey randomly sets him. And if eating at opposite ends of the table keeps him calm, keeps him sane, keeps him willing to walk home with Pete after school, then Pete will happily oblige.

Gabe Saporta noisily barges into the canteen with a girl under one arm and a half-torn physics folder under the other. His rowdiness mirrors that of Pete’s past self before Mikey begged him to stay under the radar, and he boldly crosses the tiled flooring until he reaches his “crew”, all sat at the table that is, coincidentally, the furthest away from the entrance. How fitting; dramatic entrances are Gabe’s talent, and he adores the attention he gains from them.

So did Pete, once. He used to sit over there, too, and sometimes he still does whenever Mikey is too paranoid to speak to him.

Said boy is staring dreamily ahead of Pete, wide brown eyes fixated heavily on Gabe giving this month’s girlfriend an unnecessarily long kiss on the lips. The friends at his table erupt into cheers and laughter.

“One day?” Pete barely catches the words forming around Mikey’s lips, but he thankfully does.

 _One day_ , he mouths back and smiles at the floor.

~

The following day on their walk home, something seems off with Mikey. His anxiety is not a new thing, no, and he has abruptly turned around and walked in the other direction more times than Pete can count in the past, but something isn’t right today. He keeps _returning_ to Pete’s side, no matter how many times he starts to take off. Pete is sure the poor kid is giving himself whiplash due to the violent velocity he repeatedly turns his head with so he can observe the area around him.

No-one is here and Mikey should know that much. This route leads them deep into an almost-forest, requires them to sprint across train tracks, _and_ jump from stepping-stone to stepping-stone over a river in order for them to arrive home before dark, and even then there is no guarantee they’ll make it on time. No right-minded person would select this route, even if their life depended on it.

Well. Maybe Pete’s life depends on it.

Sometimes, out here, if Mikey has had a good day at school and hasn’t overanalysed every movement, word and action of those around him, he’ll allow his hand to brush against Pete’s for five or six steps before his warped, anxious way of thinking convinces him that on this very day, someone will be in here.

And those rare five or six steps make the entire hellish journey worth it.

Today, Mikey brushes his hand against Pete’s seven times. Seven times. In twenty-three steps. Pete is shamelessly counting and his heart already feels like it’s going to burst out of his chest and explode when Mikey laces their fingers together and _holds_ his hand.

Thirty-two steps. Thirty-three, thirty-four – the hand leaves and returns again on thirty-seven. It remains there until they reach the train tracks, where it vanishes and doesn’t come back until long after they have passed the menacing river. Pete’s head is spinning.

A sunset awaits them at the end of their path. Through the cluster of trees is an orange-yellow sky and the moon is starting to break through the dimming clouds. Lights from the windows of houses outside of the almost-forest look beautiful from the distance.

Mikey looks beautiful close up. Especially when he kisses Pete.

The gesture doesn’t register with him right away. His instinctive reaction is to cup Mikey’s jaw and kiss him back, relishing in tasting both him and the fresh air simultaneously. This is a new thing, kissing outdoors, and as soon as that thought springs to Pete’s mind, Mikey pulls back, and in between breathless panting (whether that’s caused by the kissing or the paranoia, Pete can’t tell), he manages to choke out a timid laugh.

“What was that about?” Pete’s voice is a stunned whisper and his smile hurts his cheeks.

Mikey shrugs, his cheeks flushed and rosy, and he wordlessly walks ahead. Both of his hands are firmly planted in the pockets of his jeans and he does not look back.

“One day the trees will be buildings,” Mikey speaks surprisingly confidently and loudly. Pete smiles, contemplating whether he should catch up or wait for Mikey to come back.

“One day the stars will be streetlights.”

“And the birds people, and you mine.” Mikey turns around only to vocalise that thought, and he spins gracefully on his heel and strolls far ahead afterwards.

Pete follows, maintaining a safe distance. His brain picks up counting right where it left off after Mikey kissed him.

_Four hundred and eleven, four hundred and twelve, four hundred and thirteen..._

~

Sometimes Mikey’s brother picks him up from school littered in bruises. It is most common immediately after weekends and he stopped wearing makeup to conceal it after he disappeared for weeks. During those 24 days Mikey breathed nothing of his brother. Pete was too nervous to ask, and Gerard hasn’t worn a dab of concealer since his unexpected (yet heavily anticipated for) return.

Pete barely speaks to Gerard because Mikey will usually tell him to fuck off if they’re in so much as a twenty foot radius of each other. But there are some rare occasions where Mikey doesn’t mind Pete making awkward small talk, though, and Gerard’s bright eyes and contagious smile makes everything else about him seem unnoticeable.

But the injuries are still there regardless and Pete has to ask Mikey one day. He can’t take the concern much longer.

Mikey always shrugs whenever the subject is brought up, but Pete kind of knows Gerard from the past, back when he still attended school and Pete wasn’t invisible, so he has some kind of idea. Gerard was never as closed off as his baby brother.

One day last month, Gerard asked Mikey if he and Pete were doing well with Pete standing right next to them. To outsiders the question was about health, but Mikey’s mind switched into overdrive and he started shaking, detached himself from the conversation, and slid into the backseat of the car as quickly as he could.

But Gerard isn’t stupid, contrary to popular belief. He knows, and Pete and Mikey know he knows. Mikey is a carbon copy of Gerard, and he behaves the exact same way Gerard did before, well...

“He didn’t stay invisible,” Mikey whispers brokenly as he waits for his brother to arrive in the school’s parking lot. It is the most he has ever spoken about Gerard, and it clicks with Pete. Mikey’s secrecy suddenly makes total sense.

He is learning from his brother’s mistakes.

~

Sitting at opposite ends of the dance floor is intentional. Mikey begged Pete to stay away from him tonight for the whole time they walked to the building. School dances are his personal hell and they have never spent a single one together.

Pete passes the time with his original friends, drinking and yelling and flirting with anyone that has a pulse. The way he was before Mikey.

As the evening progresses, the quality of the music worsens drastically. Or maybe he is just too used to Mikey’s strange CD’s they always listen to. Alcohol sends Pete on a quest to escape the deafening noise, and his eyes settle on one sign. Bathroom.

He is inside a stall chugging gin when another person enters. They move quietly, discreetly, and their fist raps off the stall door three times.

Too drunk to ask questions, Pete unlocks the door and comes face to face with the only set of eyes he wants to remember for the rest of this lifetime, and possibly the next one also.

“Mikeyway,” he says gleefully and pulls him roughly into the miniature cubicle with little concern about the racket it causes when their bodies slam off the side wall.

The door is locked and there was nobody in here who witnessed their encounter. They are alone.

As soon as Mikey closes his eyes and tilts his head back, Pete knows what he is asking for. He latches onto Mikey’s neck, accepting the rare opportunity to mark him. This is only allowed if Mikey has been somewhere that hickeys on his neck would be partially expected. Not when he has done nothing but hang out with friends for a while, even when one of his “friends” is sleeping with him. Pete isn’t allowed hickeys, though, because Mikey is convinced too many people think he’s single.

Surprisingly, getting fucked in a bathroom stall at a high school dance doesn’t freak Mikey out. His feet are off the ground and around Pete’s waist, eliminating the possibility of being recognized because of his shoes, and Pete is short enough for Mikey to drape over him and muffle his sounds into the skin of Pete’s neck. Pete tugs Mikey’s hair and whispers his name constantly, calls him a series of cute petnames, occasionally calls him a whore.

Sharp high pitched whines when Mikey nears his orgasm are the only sounds he can’t suppress. Pete bites his neck and thrusts once more, and Mikey moans and sighs softly against him. Pete comes almost immediately after Mikey does, and they remain in their now slightly awkward embrace for some time afterwards.

Mikey’s panic attack ensues as soon as Pete has pulled his jeans up and set him down on the ground. He cries, sobs echoing in the enclosed space, and he curls against Pete, shaking and crying and clawing his hands through his tousled hair.

“I wish we could leave together,” he whispers against Pete’s shoulder after the violent quivering subsides. “I wish we could leave together. If we didn’t have to hide I would give you hickeys to match. No covering up who we were with.”

 _You’re the one who makes us hide,_ Pete muses to himself and presses a soft kiss to Mikey’s temple. He doesn’t really mind it. Whatever makes Mikey feel safe, right? “One day we will,” he murmurs against his forehead and unlocks the door in a brief, swift movement. “Go home, love. I’ll leave twenty minutes from now.”

No more words are spoken. Mikey speed walks out and Pete sits on the toilet, pressing a hand to his neck. One day...

He returns to the dance floor and his original friends after the alcohol makes him feel dizzy enough to stop worrying. Mikey is nowhere to be seen and all anyone discusses is how Gabe’s new girl was caught blowing another man outside in the alleyway.

Tonight’s scandalous subject makes Pete smile, completely relieved. Nobody noticed his absence and Mikey, though marked, somehow remained invisible.

~

They don’t speak until Mikey’s neck returns to its usual pale smoothness. In fact, Mikey doesn’t dare to make any form of eye contact at all over the next two weeks. Pete is less worried than what he should be.

The distance inspires Pete to rekindle and tighten up old fading friendships. He and Patrick start getting lunch together like they used to. Andy drags him to the gym three times a week again. Joe hangs out at his house to play videogames almost every day after school. Gabe highlights every unnecessary detail of his sex life and takes it as a compliment when Pete informs him he’d kill to unhear everything. Things are back to their old normalcy.

Mikey spends his school days in the library reading. Some days he seems so absent that not even Pete notices him.

Two and a half weeks of no communication and Mikey suddenly appears at Pete’s new-old table. All of Pete’s friends exchange a glance when Pete invites him to sit, but Mikey stays standing, bouncing from one leg to the other anxiously.

“Trees into buildings... and birds into people, and you...”

“Yeah, I’ll walk home with you.” Pete smiles wide, unaware of everyone’s confusion on how Mikey’s bizarre statement was a request.

Mikey leaves as silently as he came and Pete resumes his very important task of stealing all of Joe’s fries.

“Take it you’re leaving us again?” Patrick speaks up after a tense moment of nothing.

“You don’t mind, do you?” Pete asks, incredibly worried, and he shoves another fry into his mouth. He loves Mikey infinitely, would die for him a thousand times over, but sabotaging his friendships is a sacrifice he doesn’t want to make.

Patrick looks at the other three friends at the table, communicating solely through eye contact. Then he smiles at Pete.

“Of course not. We understand it. We know he... means a lot to you.”

Thank God Mikey has disappeared. He would panic so much he’d throw up after hearing Patrick say that.

It’s all the permission Pete needs to slowly ease his way back into Mikey’s life. In the following month he only goes to the gym once a week. Patrick eats with Joe on most days, and Joe is starting to forget the sound of Pete’s mother’s voice again.

One Friday afternoon, Mikey sits directly across from Pete at lunch, as opposed to across and one seat to the left. And when Mikey doesn’t flinch after Pete accidentally touches him while reaching for some food, Joe decides to forgive Pete for being so distant.

“Do you think he’ll ever bring Mikey to sit with us?” Joe asks Patrick after observing his friend stand up, alone, and make his way towards where his original friend group is sat. When Pete is in earshot, Joe repeats his question. “Will Mikey ever come and sit with us?”

Pete slides in between Joe and Andy and turns to silently watch Mikey. Mikey ducks his head and pretends to read, although it’s clear he is growing increasingly more nervous under Pete’s gaze. Pete turns away.

“One day he might,” he says simply. “But not right now. He’s just...”

“I know.” Joe squeezes his hand and smiles at him. Pete stares blankly at the window.

~

Summer approaching breathes new air into Pete’s lungs. He feels complete, as though he is on top of the world, endless opportunities at his feet waiting for him to do something memorable.

Warm weather and blooming flowers have him in the mood for a long relaxing wander around the city, but Mikey wants to stay inside. He tells Pete he can go for a walk another day, and Pete supposes he’s right. It isn’t often that Mikey is able to come over for sleepovers, so why waste it by forcing him out of the house all night when he’ll be uncomfortable the entire time?

They are in Pete’s bedroom with Pete’s fingers curled around his bass guitar and Mikey’s arms around Pete’s waist. He is whispering instructions into Pete’s ear and kisses his cheek whenever he gets the chord sequences right. The blinds are half shut and the lights are switched off, which doesn’t become a problem until it is pitch black outside and the only streetlight visible from Mikey’s house is struggling to shine through the tiny gap the blinds have left for it.

Acoustic guitars and a soft female voice soon sound through speakers on Pete’s desk. Mikey must be done giving bass lessons, so Pete sets the instrument down and lies back on the bed, drumming out the beat of the song on his chest with his fingers. He feels light.

The mattress dips next to him and he turns his head, coming face to face with Mikey and seeing that he’s no longer wearing his glasses. Can he even see Pete smile at him?

When he kisses Mikey he isn’t pushed back, which is a massive relief considering how often it usually happens if he does it without asking first. The door isn’t locked; Mikey must just be feeling brave tonight. Pete rolls half on top of him and holds him in place, gliding his tongue across Mikey’s jaw and resisting the urge to bite down and mark him there.

“We should dance,” he murmurs against Mikey’s lips. “You never let me dance with you, but nobody can see us right now.”

“People walking past will see us.”

Pete stands up at once and yanks the blinds shut all the way down. “Nobody will see us now.” His tone of voice is verging on begging, but the room is completely void of light now and Pete can’t beg using his eyes, so he must rely on his voice instead.

A quick look around confirms that statement and Mikey reluctantly rises from the bed. Once standing, he increases the volume of the radio ever so slightly and beckons Pete to join him.

They sway awkwardly with very hesitant motions, partly because neither of them can dance to save themselves and partly because Mikey is without a doubt mentally preparing to jump back any second from now. Pete isn’t bothered, though. He is in Mikey’s arms with his head resting comfortably against Mikey’s chest. This is perfect for him.

“I love you.” Mikey rarely has the courage to say those three words, and Pete ducks his head to hide how embarrassingly red his face turns, even though he knows Mikey can’t see him in the darkness. He whispers the same three words back, and Mikey hums softly before saying, “Do a twirl. You’re smaller, so it’s easier.”

Pete complies and it doesn’t go as gracefully as they hope but he doesn’t fall, so surely that must be something worth bragging about. He then returns to his original position and inhales deeply, breathing in the scent of cigarette smoke combined with cologne.

The darkness and the peaceful atmosphere both make Pete drowsy and he almost doesn’t let go of Mikey when the light switches on. But Mikey has already pressed himself against the wall, as far away as he can get from Pete in the tiny bedroom, and Pete blinks before making eye contact with his mother. Her eyes dart between them and then she steps forward.

“I made you boys some sandwiches.” Her smile is warm and she extends her arms out towards Pete.

Pete takes both plates from her and he hands one to Mikey. He thanks his mom and hugs her tightly with one arm, and he notices her looking pointedly at Mikey. When she does, Mikey smiles nervously and keeps his gaze diverted.

“You don’t have to be scared of me, Mikey,” she says gently and observes the bedroom one last time before turning to leave. “Remember to bring the plates back down, okay boys?”

As soon as the door clicks shut, Mikey sinks down onto the floor and hugs his knees, not acknowledging the sandwich next to him.

“What did she mean by that?” He sounds utterly panicked and Pete wants to lie and say she was simply referring to Mikey’s shyness, but the truth will catch up with him soon enough, so telling the truth right now is better.

“You shouldn’t be scared of her. She loves you.” Pete pauses. “And she knows I love you, too,” he says.

Silence falls across the room and Pete sits next to Mikey, eating and quietly watching him. He looks lost deep in thought, somewhat scared, and Pete is about to retract his explanation and rephrase it in a way Mikey would rather hear when Mikey finally speaks, and what he says shocks Pete.

“Tomorrow, I’m going to go for a walk around the streets near here. And you can tell her everything while I’m gone, and if she’s cool with it, open your window so I will know to come back inside once I walk past and see it. If she’s not cool with it, leave it shut and I’ll go home. I’ll give you two hours before I go home.”

Stunned, Pete considers his options and decides Mikey is right. He wonders what possessed Mikey to decide this, though. He gets panic attacks when Pete _looks_ at him sometimes.

“Why two hours?” Is what Pete finally asks. “Why should it take that long?”

“Took Gerard five hours before he was even allowed to leave the room.”

“But my mom won’t be mad at me.”

“Gerard thought the same thing,” Mikey says cryptically and also kind of bitterly, Pete realises. Just as he finishes his sandwich, Mikey starts to eat his and he bops his head along to the beat of the music. The album is over halfway done now. They were dancing for a while.

Once the plates are returned downstairs and Pete has said his goodnights, he and Mikey brush their teeth and then Pete beelines straight for his bed. The first ten or so minutes are spent alone because Mikey has a skin care routine and cares more about it than keeping Pete warm – Pete makes a mental note to blackmail him using this information later on this week whenever he has the opportunity – and he lies on the inside of the bed, duvet up to his neck.

Mikey arrives soon after, his face slightly glowy and soft to touch. Pete holds him as close as he’ll allow and twirls strands of his hair. Mikey’s always bounces back into place, but when Mikey begins gently pulling Pete’s hair, sections gradually curl until his hair is a messy mismatch of straightened and coiled. The only reason Mikey doesn’t inform Pete about it because he is genuinely convinced Pete would think it looks cool and would voluntarily start going outside with it styled that way. Regardless of how lenient Mikey is with his boyfriend’s questionable fashion choices, there is still a line he refuses to cross.

Pete’s breath is warm against Mikey’s wrist. He wants to kiss Mikey but Mikey is so content with lying here, playing with Pete’s hair and humming a song from the album they listened to earlier, and Pete really can’t find it in him to disturb this tranquillity. This is the calmest he reckons Mikey has been in months. He likes staying over here. They can sleep in the same bed without being seen because Pete has a lock on his door while Mikey does not, so here there is no paranoia.

“I wish we were always this safe,” Mikey’s soft voice disturbs the silence.

“One day we will be,” Pete says. He wants it to be a promise.

Finding a comfortable position is hard when you’re an insomniac who is too much of a perfectionist about how your bed covers are positioned, but when Mikey falls asleep with his head on top of Pete’s bicep, one hand gripping his shirt and the other holding Pete’s own hand, Pete lies as still as a rock, fearing that one slight movement will jolt Mikey awake. Even when Mikey kicks Pete and then slides one leg over Pete’s, Pete stays where he is and lets it happen. At this rate, Mikey is going to be fully on top of him, and Pete is more than okay with that. He wants to be as close to Mikey as he can. Hell, he would absorb him so they could become one being if it were possible.

“Goodnight,” he whispers, relieved when there is no response. Mikey is deeply asleep, soft breath fanning Pete’s neck. It’s all so peaceful that Pete forgets for a moment about their reality, about the avoidance and the secrecy and his terrible responsibility of hopefully eradicating the latter once tomorrow arrives. Right now everything feels normal. Safe. Hopeful.

He buries his head in the pillow and squeezes Mikey tightly. For the first time since he was nine years old, Pete prays.

 _Don’t take him away from me tomorrow. Please don’t take him away from me tomorrow_...

~

By the time Pete wakes up, the bed is already empty and the curtains are drawn. The latch on the window is securely fastened and other than yesterday’s clothes folded over the desk chair, there are no noticeable signs of Mikey having been here. The silence is deafening and Pete feels sick.

Anxiety suffocates him in waves when he stands. He is half-tempted to retreat outside and locate Mikey, to bring him home and apologize because _I don’t think I’m ready to do this yet_ , but an opportunity like this may never come up again. Pete has to count his chances and play by the rules accordingly. For all he knows, Mikey has been wandering aimlessly for hours now.

Lost in the depths of his own mind, Pete paces his bedroom for the better part of thirty minutes, unaware of the floorboards creaking beneath him. Only once his mother appears at the door and questions it does he snap out of his trance. He clears his throat and goes to speak, but before he manages to get the first word out, he chokes out a sob.

“Honey? What’s wrong?” His mother rushes to his side and tenderly touches his shoulder as if he may break any second, and Pete feels like he actually might. Further attempts to speak fail drastically, and the next thing Pete knows, he’s sat on the edge of his bed crying against his mother’s chest. The setup reminds him of his childhood whenever he’d fall and scrape his knee, and a hug from mother and her lips against his forehead seemed to make it all better.

“I’m scared,” Pete whispers, saliva and tears soaking through his mother’s t-shirt. “Mom, I’m scared.”

“Why are you scared?” Her voice is as gentle as her hold and though Pete’s mind is racing, it calms him nonetheless. “Did something happen?”

“So much has happened.” Pete’s voice is tragically fragile. He feels his mom shift as she looks around the room, perplexed at the absence of Mikey.

“Where did Mikey go? Is it him you’re crying about?”

Though Pete goes to deny that statement, the fact that he automatically cries harder at hearing that name pretty much confirms his mom’s question. She sighs in the sympathetic manner all mothers tend to do and hugs her son tightly, smoothing down his oddly-styled hair and swaying him slightly.

Pete raises his head after a while and blinks away any fresh tears that threaten to fall. “What do you know about us?” He asks desperately and strains his neck to try and look out the window, just on the off chance that Mikey is walking past. He isn’t. “What do you know?”

“You’re friends – are you no longer friends?” His mother jumps to a false conclusion as always and Pete shakes his head. “You both are still friends, then? Yes? Then what else is there to know?”

Fighting the urge to scream in a mixture of fright and frustration, Pete pushes away from his mother and slouches sadly. His closed off body language is the only hint his mom needs to stay away from him. “There is so much to know,” he says weakly.

“Pete, I don’t understand this. What are you talking about?”

Pete audibly gulps and rubs his face in an attempt to wipe tears, and he stands up and paces in the same anxious manner he was doing before his mother came into the room. He senses her eyes on him.

“ _Pete_ ,” she says after a prolonged tense silence.

“I love him. I love him so much, and I’m sorry, and I, I’m sorry, I don’t know,” he whispers brokenly and backs away instinctively as soon as the words pass his lips. His paranoia increases by the tenfold and he shakes so violently that it’s physically painful.

Knowingly, his mother nods, and she says, “I know you do” like it’s no big deal. But it is a big deal, a huge deal, and she doesn’t catch onto that until Pete starts hyperventilating again. Then comes the surprised, “Oh, you mean -,” followed by reluctant stammering, and then the eventual, “Why have you not told me this sooner?”

Honesty is Pete’s best trait, his mother always tells him. This is why he doesn’t hesitate to tell her the truth, no matter how painful or offensive it might be to her. “Thought you’d hit me or something, or really hate me or... something, or... y’know, yeah.”

That sentence earns him a shocked stare, his mother understandably hurt at the assumption, and then she is up on her feet and engulfing Pete in a warm hug and comforting words. In between each ramble she repeats the sentence “I’ll always love you no matter what,” eighteen times before Pete stops counting and asserts his focus onto the future instead, and he asks her if he will still be allowed to see Mikey. She assures him that he is always welcome here.

The tears and cuddles and talking ceases after a while and before long the two of them are standing in the middle of the room, the atmosphere having suddenly turned rather awkward now that all the heightened emotions have calmed significantly. Pete’s mother says she’ll let him be alone for a while, and once she exits the room, Pete flips the latch and opens the window as wide as it will allow.

He sits on the top of the stairs and waits. When his mother returns upstairs later on to retrieve her phone charger, she stops on the steps to repeat how proud she is of Pete, and that she’ll always love him no matter what. There is a foreign sense of warmth in Pete’s heart and he hugs his knees, gazing at the wall and wondering if Mikey really did give up and go home.

Forty minutes later, there is a knock on the door. Pete’s first guess is a pizza delivery man or something similar, seeing as it isn’t uncommon for his family to order takeouts every Saturday, so he makes no effort to move. When his mother passes him again and opens the door, Pete leans forward so he can see and catches sight of a lanky boy with messy hair and glasses. Pete’s smile hurts his cheek.

Mikey’s voice is incredibly small when he speaks. It is clear he hadn’t expected such a positive turnout of today, and he stumbles over an improvised excuse. “Uh, I-I went for a walk ‘cause, like, exercise, and I just, like, went for a walk-.”

“Pete is on the stairs.” Pete’s mom opens the door wide to allow Mikey to pass. Pete blinks and Mikey is suddenly in his arms, nuzzled against him and breathing in the way he does when he’s forcing himself not to cry. Pete makes eye contact with his mother as soon as he notices that, and she catches on too from judging the worried expression on her son’s face.

She loiters in the hallway, understanding that they’ll most certainly want to be alone right now but also wanting to check that they are definitely okay first. Pete isn’t bothered, and he brushes his hand through Mikey’s hair and says, “She’s okay. We’re safe.”

His mom hears those words. She wonders if there is a reason for Mikey’s crippling paranoia.

“One day we can kiss in front of her.” Mikey practically mouths the words to Pete, they’re so quiet. He kneels a few steps below the one Pete is sitting on and he smiles up at him. His sadness is almost unnoticeable.

“Why not today?” Pete asks in mock offense, a wicked grin across his face. He prepares to laugh the suggestion off, expects Mikey to ignore it like he usually does whenever something like that is spoken about, so he is pleasantly surprised when Mikey surges forward and kisses him. It’s a quick chaste peck, so fast that it almost doesn’t register with Pete. His mother smiles softly at him and wordlessly disappears into the living-room.

A panic attack is expected but nothing happens. Mikey stands up and mutters something about wanting a nap after all the useless walking from today, and Pete follows him and laughs to mask his confusion. Why is Mikey so _calm_ after kissing him in front of someone, especially a person he sees on a daily basis? That has never happened before. Sometimes he shakes violently after _looking_ at Pete for too long.

Their nap is as peaceful as their full sleep was, only this time Pete is the one curled up against Mikey. He doesn’t wake again until teatime, and he groggily turns his head to see Mikey resting against the headboard and reading a book. The sight draws a smile from Pete and he silently admires Mikey until his staring distracts him enough for the book to be discarded to the side. Perfect; now Mikey’s attention is totally undivided.

“You are beautiful,” Pete says and Mikey ducks his head, laughing nervously as he always does when receiving a compliment. “What were you reading?”

Mikey ignores the question. His eyes are fixated on the window and he drums his fingers against his legs for a few minutes. Then, he randomly states, “I think it’s my turn now.”

~

Two days later they are at the river Pete so shamelessly despises, and the sun is beating down on them. The glistening water almost distracts Pete from what he should be focused on; Mikey detailing all the events of the previous day down to the very last detail.

“He cried more than I did,” Mikey begins his explanation. “We had to make sure nobody was around and he couldn’t talk much because of his lip, but he cried a lot. I don’t know if it was out of pride for me or out of his own regrets.”

Pete nods, his lips forming into a tight line. Conversations about Mikey’s brother are always difficult no matter what the subject is. Somehow it always circles back to the bruises.

_~Sunday evening~_

_Even after doing every breathing exercise he’s ever learned, Mikey’s head was still spinning upon his return home. Every light was off except one upstairs and the TV was at a low volume in the living-room. If it were not for cabinets noisily slamming shut in the bathroom, Mikey would have assumed everyone was asleep._

_He located Gerard in the bathroom, taking all his pent up rage out on the poor door under the sink that looked as though it was about to come flying off its hinges with the force Gerard continuously punched it at. The violence only faltered when he turned and noticed his little brother in the doorway, timidly watching him with wide eyes. He scrambled to hide his busted lip, but it was no use. The purple marks on his wrists gave away everything._

_“I have something to tell you,” Mikey said, eyes trained on the floor. Red droplets ruined the pale white tiles, but Mikey knew better than to point it out. Talking about_ it _upsets Gerard more than what_ it _actually does. “Come into the basement. It’s about Pete.”_

_They walked hand in hand, Mikey amused at the irony of the younger brother being the protector. Whenever he moved his thumb, he could feel grazes on Gerard’s knuckles. He would have laughed out loud if he didn’t notice the way his brother flinched whenever anything made a noise._

_Thankfully nobody crossed their paths during their journey to the basement. Once down there, Gerard assumed his usual position of lying on the bed with his feet on the pillows and his head at the bottom, and Mikey remained standing. If someone were to come down here while he explained this, he had to be prepared to run._

_“Tell me.” Gerard’s voice held a lot of excitement for somebody who had to spit out blood once finished talking. Mikey gnawed on his lip, uneasy at the sight, and he leaned down so he could whisper while still being heard._

_“Dad will kill me,” he said, and Gerard gained a pretty good understanding of where this conversation was going from that sentence alone, but he allowed Mikey to continue. It’s important to let him speak. He learned that a long time ago when Mikey began isolating himself. “Or he might kill you. He’ll blame you for it. He’ll say it’s your fault, that you influenced me or whatever.”_

_A cocky, knowing smile flashed across Gerard’s face. “Aw, what did I inspire you to do this time?”_

_“You know what. You’ll end up in the hospital if he finds out.” Humour is Gerard’s coping mechanism and Mikey always plays into it, no matter what._

_“Hospital is an easy escape. You’re lying to yourself, suggesting that that would be the outcome. I’d wake up in a morgue, Mikey.”_

_And Mikey had wanted to laugh because he supposed the statement was kind of funny, but the fear outweighed the humour and it hit him at once, and he burst into tears despite his best efforts to prevent it. The more he tried to stop, the harder he sobbed, and Gerard’s rapid transformation from depreciating jokes to genuine comfort astonished him. His personality changes as abruptly as the weather does._

_Hesitantly, Gerard asked Mikey, “You’re not kidding, are you? Are you and Pete together?” and the fact that Mikey began exhibiting signs of a panic attack immediately after that question, answered it. The next half an hour was spent with Gerard hugging Mikey and Mikey stuttering the story of him and Pete dating through laboured breathing. His chest hurt terribly and he felt awful for making such a fuss out of it when Gerard arguably had infinitely worse things to worry about, but the older boy provided constant comfort and Mikey needed that right now._

_“I just don’t know why you kept this from me for so long when you knew about me,” Gerard had said at one point in the conversation. Mikey stared intently at the bruises under his eye, the scarring on his arms, the blood on his lips. Did Gerard really not understand Mikey’s reasons for secrecy? Or did he just want to hear Mikey vocalise it?_

_“Both of us would be in danger. Both of us would get hurt. You didn’t stay invisible; I wasn’t about to make the same mistake,” Mikey explained in a shaky voice, his breaths slowing steadily now. “You told them and paid hell for it. You learned your lesson the hard way, I learned from watching you.”_

_Gerard went strangely quiet after that. Silence for him is abnormal when he and Mikey are alone together, but Mikey was not bothered on this night. He craved gentle physical affection, and the hugs Gerard gave him catered to that need. No words needed to be spoken._

_An hour passed. Nothing happened. The entire house was eerily silent. Gerard’s lip had finally ceased bleeding and his movements seemed less pained than before. Their hug was ongoing, and Gerard was almost asleep when Mikey finally whispered to him._

_“What was it for this time?”_

_A heavy sigh sounded through Gerard’s nose and he released Mikey from his hold. “Just. He has friends over. Never met them before, and I was hungry so I risked dignity for food. Went into the kitchen – stupid, I know – ‘nd he called me a faggot, ‘cause for some reason humiliating me is a good introduction, and I never actually intended to but I may or may not have told him to shut the fuck up. He waited til his friends left and then, you know. He just... it doesn’t matter. You know what he did. One look at my face is enough. And it hurts, but whatever.”_

_Mikey hates these kinds of conversations. This one in particular because there was no humour, just fact._

_“It really hurts. My head hurts.” Gerard sounded more fragile this time. He seldom cries in front of anyone, but Mikey could tell that this night was going to be one of those rare times._

_Mikey resorted to rubbing soothing circles into Gerard’s hands in an attempt to assure him. “Hurts as in what? Emotional or physical pain?”_

_“All of the above, Mikey.” His voice cracked on Mikey’s name and even now Mikey can’t understand why Gerard bottles up his pain. “I’m proud of you for being brave enough to tell me everything,” he added as though it was an afterthought, desperate to switch the topic of conversation. But tears escaped his eyes, and he masked it with an “I’m just happy for you, that’s all, I swear,” but Mikey knew the reason was completely different. Perhaps it was jealousy, or anger from earlier, or maybe the pain was just too much to bear this time. Mikey didn’t know. He never does know. Gerard no longer tells him anything._

_~Present day~_

A heavy silence settles once the story finalizes, mainly because Pete has no clue how to console Mikey. There is no helping the situation. Things are as they are, and they will remain that way until Gerard moves out, so it seems.

Mikey stands up unexpectedly and kicks some stones into the river. “We should keep walking. Don’t want our parents to worry.” A nervous laugh punctuates his sentence and Pete knows that the real reason Mikey is desperate to get home is because he doesn’t like sticking around after discussing depressing subjects.

“Of course,” Pete mumbles a little pathetically. Shouldn’t he be _there_ for Mikey? He hates that Mikey always pushes him away. It is a constant occurrence and recently, most times have had nothing to do with secrecy. It’s just Mikey being Mikey. And he can’t help himself when he randomly blurts out, “Why do you never tell _me_ anything?”

When Mikey freezes on the spot, Pete takes a step back, suddenly nervous for what Mikey’s reaction may be. “What do you mean, Pete?”

“You tell me nothing about your own life. That’s the first insight into your life you’ve given me in months. You complain that Gerard doesn’t confide in you anymore, but with me-“

“It’s getting late. We should hurry.” Mikey cuts Pete off and briskly walks ahead with his head down and his shoulders slumped. Pete rolls his eyes, frustrated, and follows obediently. If it were anyone else doing this to him, he’d walk the other way. If it were anyone else, he’d start screaming at them to act like a normal fucking friend. If it were anyone else...

Pete shuts his head off as best as he can by distracting himself with his surroundings. Nature is beautiful when you immerse yourself among it, and he becomes so captivated by the flowers around him that for some parts of the walk, the boy in front of him seems completely non-existent.

Neither of them really mind.

~

The first time Mikey ever got high he spent forty minutes detailing all the reasons why he hated fish and the next twenty minutes trailing his fingers along the glass fishtank in Pete’s living-room and ecstatically announcing his happiness every time a fish followed him. It was contradictory and somewhat amusing to watch.

The second time Mikey gets high he calls Pete’s phone at one o’clock in the morning and breathlessly tells him to listen to the wind. Static and the sound of cars driving past confirms that Mikey is definitely outside, and Pete shoves the duvet off him and sits up, his heart racing.

“Mikey, where are you?”

“Don’t worry about it.” His speech is noticeably slurred and Pete wonders if he drank. He silently listens to Mikey humming. There is a long pause. Then, “The sky’s so nice t’night, Pete.”

“Who are you with? Are you alone?” The lack of voices on the other end of the phone concerns Pete deeply and Mikey’s next response isn’t comforting.

“Physically I am, but no-one is ever _really_ alone, we all- we’ve all got something hanging over us, right? And some things need to be done alone.” It sounds as though he’s forcing himself not to cry. “I’m alone.”

The paranoia is so intense that Pete feels sick. “Where are you?” He repeats his earlier question and swings his legs over the side of his bed, ready to stand up. As soon as the question passes Pete’s lips, running water is audible on the other end of the line. Mikey is still walking and Pete forces himself to get out of bed.

“You know when,” Mikey starts to speak as Pete hurriedly pulls a pair of jeans on, “like, when you just, you’re so... tired?” Mikey stops when he hears the thud of Pete dropping one of his shoes, but once everything goes quiet he continues like nothing happened. “I wish I could go away for a while. I wish I could let the water sweep me away-.”

“Stay where you are.” Pete cuts Mikey off in a panic and runs out of his house with nothing but his phone and a t-shirt he is yet to put on. He’s never heard Mikey talk like this before and he doesn’t like it at all, especially when the line on the other end cuts. His nihilism is terrifying.

Clueless of Mikey’s whereabouts and catching on very quickly that Mikey won’t give him a location, Pete seems all out of options until he reaches three blocks over and stops dead at the almost-forest he travels through on his way home from school. Mikey is drunk, high and near a water source. Does that mean he’s in here? Mikey _did_ mention water. It would make sense, Pete thinks. Whenever Mikey is intoxicated, he has a tendency to latch onto people, objects and places that bring comfort to him. And the fact that Mikey has took to kissing Pete and holding his hand when they are amongst this cluster of trees is a pretty strong indicator that this is one of his safe places.

Pete sprints so fast he barely notices the cold air on his skin, and he makes no effort to stop when he drops his t-shirt after stumbling over a rock. He carries on running, leaving the shirt on the path, and deeply regrets not bringing a flashlight. Darkness leads to him blindly tripping over every little branch and stone lying in his path. This is fucking ridiculous. But so is Mikey’s decision to be here, and if he made it through here then so can Pete.

The second Pete’s ears pick up the sound of the river, he’s screaming for Mikey so loud his voice hurts. Each call of his name goes unanswered and the further Pete walks along the riverside, the more he becomes convinced that Mikey has either fallen or jumped in. The former would be typical for him, but from the way he was speaking on the phone tonight, Pete’s mind jumps to the latter, more sinister conclusion.

Half an hour passes and he’s resorted to walking dejectedly, sobbing loudly and no longer maintaining perfect balance in fear of falling. This is hopeless, wandering through a forest in complete darkness in search of someone who clearly does not want to be found. He considers going home and crying himself to sleep for the next ten years when he crashes into something tall. It’s not the first time he’s walked into a tree tonight, but it _is_ the first time a tree has shouted in pain...

“Mikey?” Pete’s voice holds no excitement or relief, just total exhaustion, and Mikey nods in the dark, stuttering out a small _y-yes_ after realising Pete can’t see him. And then Pete breaks down and hugs him so tight it hurts, slowly manoeuvring him away from the river and into a desolate area where there is nothing endangering them. “Mikey, what the _fuck_ -“

“You say I don’t tell you anything.” Mikey’s voice is raw and he sounds riled up, and Pete told Mikey that a _month_ ago, for fucks sake, is he really dwelling on that statement so badly that he’s took to wandering here at 1AM? “I’m going to tell you everything.”

The scent of alcohol on Mikey’s breath is the only reason Pete isn’t kissing him right now. He wants to pretend Mikey doesn’t have to substance abuse in order to confess things.

“I’m sad.” Anger tinges Mikey’s voice and he paces around. Pete follows behind him with shaky legs, trying his best to stay close. “And the world is falling to pieces. And the bathroom is covered in blood.” Mikey’s erratic, panicky hand movements mirror the rapid pace of his voice.

“Okay,” Pete says. He internally vows not to ask questions or derail the topics. He’s just going to let Mikey ramble.

“This fucking river should be a deathbed.” Pete grabs Mikey’s hand when said boy attempts to walk towards the water. “It could take all of my secrets and pain and problems and drown them at the bottom and nobody will ever find them or me.”

“You want to go in the river?” So Pete stuck to his rule of not interrupting for a solid ten seconds. Shockingly, he thinks that’s a record.

“And never resurface,” Mikey hisses and Pete guesses he’s making eye contact, even though it’s dark. “And I would take the world down with me. Photos and letters and stories buried underneath my body, anchored down by the weight of the world threatening every fucking aspect of my life.”

“You sound like me,” Pete murmurs. This is something that would be penned in his diary to write poetic lyrics to at a later date. It should not come from the mouth of the quiet, reserved boy in front of him.

Branches snap underneath their feet as they walk. “And I’d take you down with me, too. ‘Cause maybe then we could lie at peace and not worry about locks. And the water would destroy any fire I light in an attempt to burn evidence of us.”

If it weren’t for the crickets and the gentle sound of the river flowing, Pete would be experiencing the heaviest silence he’s ever felt in his life right now. His chest feels hollow and he weakly grips Mikey’s wrist, hoping desperately that he will remain by his side. Sleepiness creeps up on him and he wonders how long he can listen to this for.

“I set fire to your photos,” Mikey states and the reality of Mikey wanting to erase anything to do with him and Pete should cause Pete’s heart to break, but truthfully Pete is just elated that Mikey is finally making sense again. “Everything is gone. The photos are gone.”

In spite of everything Mikey has done tonight that understandably made Pete so worried he was ready to fight him, Pete can’t help but embrace Mikey in a warm hug. “It’s okay,” he soothes him. “We can take more. We can take thousands more.”

“I don’t want to hide anymore,” Mikey cries and he hiccups, nuzzling against Pete’s bare chest. “I’m tired of hiding. I’m tired, Pete.”

Pete says nothing. He sways his boyfriend silently, kissing his cheek softly and twirling his hair. Mikey knows he is the one who calls the shots. He knows that if Pete had it his way, everyone would have known since day one. A year of silence because _Mikey_ wanted silence. And if Mikey has changed his mind suddenly, then Pete is ready to scream it from the very top of the tallest tree in this forest.

“I love you,” he whispers into Mikey’s ear, swallowing nervously when Mikey hesitates. The darkness makes it impossible to read Mikey’s emotions based solely off his facial expressions, meaning Pete is all the more anxious when the silence is dragged out.

When Mikey tugs his wrist free from Pete’s hold and asks to be walked home, Pete wordlessly obliges and hangs his head glumly. Maybe Mikey is just being distant because he is intoxicated. Or scared... but why after ranting about not wanting to hide would he not say three simple yet meaningful words back to Pete when he _knows_ Pete needs to hear it? More questions going unanswered. For everything Mikey confessed tonight, it seems like there will always be an underlying issue that is never brought to light.

It takes hours to find their way back onto the street. Several times, Pete is convinced he is going to die out here, so when he catches the first glimpse of the streetlight he instinctively grabs Mikey’s hand and runs towards it. The second he is on the sidewalk, he laughs loudly, relieved, as if he just stopped the world from ending.

But his joy quickly falters. There is no further communication between him and his boyfriend and he is too scared to initiate any. For the entire twenty minutes, he plans in his head a huge speech he wants to text Mikey tomorrow once he’s sober, elaborating on all the reasons why it’s unfair that his attitude is constantly vague and that he just expects Pete to be okay with it. By the time they reach Mikey’s front door, Pete is so fired up he feels ready to do this right now, but then Mikey stops in the hallway.

Pete waits outside for him to close the door, but instead Mikey beckons him forward. Once he’s standing on the welcome mat, he’s being kissed. Not quickly and sloppily like Mikey usually does when there is the threat of someone seeing them, but long and slow and soft, the way it happens in Pete’s bedroom when the door is locked and the covers are almost cutting off their oxygen supply. Pete doesn’t know what to do.

“I love you,” Mikey states boldly, confidence obvious even when his voice quivers, and he gestures for Pete to leave with a smile on his face, and his eyes are bloodshot and glowing. “One day, everyone will know. One day, the stars will be streetlights.”

The door closes. By the time Pete steps back onto the driveway, his entire speech is already forgotten.

~

The final high-school dance is an emotional one and, like always, Pete and Mikey stay separated. Pete went with friends, and Mikey, distant as usual, turned up unannounced and alone. He smiled nervously at Pete before walking right past him as if they were strangers. Pete doesn’t really mind.

Patrick knowingly nudges Joe when Pete stares after Mikey. The whole friend group is onto them, unsurprisingly, and Gabe has made it his life mission to debate how long it will take for Mikey to “come around.” Pete has to regularly beg him to say nothing to Mikey.

Tonight is important. It finalises the end of their high-school year and that after graduation, everyone will go their separate ways. It is the last chance for people to mingle with those who they’re only friends with because they see each other five days a week.

Maybe that’s why Mikey approaches Pete halfway through the night. He says nothing, just sips on a cup of lemonade, conscious of the gap between him and Pete.

“We’re in the same English class,” Mikey explains when Pete looks at him questioningly. “This could be our last night together.”

Pete laughs at the ridiculous thought. “Thank God it won’t be,” he says.

Mikey smiles and downs his lemonade in three gulps before vanishing in the blink of an eye. Pete tries to give it no thought.

For years, Pete wanted his last senior dance to be with someone special. And, as he twirls a gleeful Patrick who laughs so hysterically he _must_ be drunk, Pete decides that this will do. There is no need for his friendships to become void of connections simply because he doesn’t kiss any of them.

Two dances later and Pete has just sat down for a breather when Mikey appears suddenly, holding a refilled cup of lemonade, and his eyes are glowing. Pete thinks he’s in love. He is in love, and he mouths that fact to Mikey, who only smiles in response. He sits down next to Pete.

“The lemonade is nice.” It sounds like Mikey is doing everything he can to stop his voice from shaking. Pete loves him even more for trying.

“Can I try some?” Pete asks, suddenly very aware of how on-edge he is.

Mikey passes him the cup, eyes focused on Pete drinking from it. He takes five sips and sighs peacefully before handing the cup back. “Refreshing,” he says.

Mikey smiles and his eyes glare at the floor. Then, “Come with me.”

Pete assumes they’re going to the bathroom to repeat last time’s events, so he’s taken aback when Mikey stops dead in the middle of the floor, hand still lightly holding Pete’s wrist. This is unusual, but Pete’s shock at the abnormal behaviour is only further strengthened by what Mikey asks him.

“Can we dance? I like this song.”

Pete’s throat is dry and his heartbeat verges on erratic. Mikey dancing with him in _school_? He rarely dances with him behind closed doors!

“Are you drunk?” The tone is humourless because Pete sincerely doesn’t want Mikey’s final school dance to become tainted by regrets he’ll never get over. But his soft eyes are fearless and determination is etched onto his face. The only evidence of anxiety is the feeble bouncing of his right leg.

He stares intently at his boyfriend like he’s too scared to look at anyone else. Maybe he is. “No,” he replies, understanding why Pete would make that accusation.

“You on something?” Pete queries, utterly perplexed as he remembers the text Mikey sent him only 4 hours ago – ‘ _Remember, stay away from me. uoy evol i.’_ He always texts those three words backwards. Pete wonders why he bothers; anyone with a shred of common sense can decode that, and Mikey deletes his conversations with Pete on an hourly basis anyways (Pete always lies that he does the same. He doesn’t.)

“No. Promise. C’mon,” Mikey pleads and brings Pete’s arms up to his shoulders. Pete expects them to remain at arms length until Mikey hugs Pete’s waist and pulls him close, and although Mikey’s breathing becomes irregular, Mikey doesn’t try to leave. He rests his head on Pete’s shoulder, lips against his neck, trapping his lover in some sort of death grip.

He’s terrified, Pete thinks, but he’s trying.

Memories flood Pete’s brain. This is exactly like slow dancing in his bedroom, except here it’s warmer and brighter and there are _people_. Four walls no longer promise them privacy. There is nowhere to hide if anything goes wrong.

Mikey refuses to look up. Pete guesses he’s scared of people’s reactions, but Pete does a quick sweep of the room with his eyes and apart from 4 people out of 109, no-one is paying them attention.

“Baby, look up,” Pete whispers, instantly wondering if the petname was a mistake. If it is he can’t be sure, as Mikey remains silent. “Mikey, we’re fine. Look up.”

When he does, his eyes are watery and this time they _do_ exhibit fear, lots of it. Pete takes to smiling softly at him, lacing their hands together and repeatedly glancing at his lips to vocalise his main question. Mikey nods timidly, knuckles pale with the tight hold on Pete’s hands.

Pete kisses him, slowly, and it lasts for a solid nine or ten seconds before Mikey pulls away abruptly. He’s shaking, can’t really stay in beat with the music anymore, and although Pete has dreamt of something like this for months, he now wants nothing more than for Mikey to stop. There’s no point in breaking himself over this. Pete can wait longer.

“Mikey, go sit down.” Pete dries a stray tear off Mikey’s cheek. “Deep breaths, get more lemonade-“

“Hug me ‘n sway me ‘n please don’t let me escape.” Mikey’s voice quivers and it cracks twice.

Pete can’t comprehend this situation. “Mikey-“

“ _Please_ , Pete. Please. I want one day to be today.” And Mikey ducks back down to hide in Pete’s neck, and everything makes sense.

Over at the buffet table, Patrick is on his third cinnamon roll when Gabe inelegantly speeds up to him, knocking several empty cups over when he bangs against the table. His yellow suit is blinding and Patrick wonders how on earth he won “best dressed male.”

Before Gabe can share supposedly groundbreaking news, judging by the enthusiasm in his eyes, Patrick thrusts a cinnamon roll at him. “Eat this, they’re fucking delicious.”

Gabe hesitantly takes a bite, almost prepared to speak when _holy shit these are perfect_ , and he crams the entire roll into his mouth and moans obscenely, much to Patrick’s annoyance. He gets it, though; he almost did the same when he ate the first one.

Gabe is just finishing his second roll when Joe strolls over and drinks from a cup of water. “So how shocked was he? As shocked as I was?”

The second roll is almost fully in Gabe’s mouth, so he physically can’t answer, and all Patrick says is “huh?”

“Gabe didn’t tell you-?”

“Tell me what? We’re just eating these rolls – you should try one! They’re fantastic-“

Joe smacks the back of Gabe’s head, making him spit chunks of the roll out. Patrick inexplicably puts his half-eaten fifth roll down, having suddenly lost his appetite.

“Idiot,” Joe remarks before turning to Patrick. “Look over there. Look who are dancing together.”

Patrick squints in the direction Joe gestures to but he can’t see anything distinctive until he locks eye contact with Andy, who immediately jumps and points frantically to his left.

When Patrick spots Mikey comfortably draped over Pete like a security blanket and Pete occasionally punctuating sentences with a kiss on his cheek, Patrick wonders how the hell he missed them in the first place. He grins uncontrollably as he watches Mikey raise his head and smile. Patrick has never seen him smile with his teeth before.

He’s also never seen him kiss Pete, and when that happens Patrick and Joe both stand up, grabbing onto each other and cheering wildly as they jump around. Gabe chokes on his food, splutters and keels over before swallowing it, and then he too is up on his feet, hopping onto Joe’s back and hollering loudly when Joe runs in circles.

Andy, arguably the sanest out of the friend group, simply takes a few steps back from Pete and Mikey and wordlessly snaps a photo of them without drawing attention to himself or the couple. He figures this is something Pete will want a photo of. A permanent, constant memory of tonight.

Mikey pulls back, breathless and smiley, cheeks bright red, and he isn’t crying. If Pete counted right, that kiss lasted 28 seconds, but it felt eternal so he can’t be sure. He laughs nervously and pushes his bangs out of his eyes so he can see Mikey clearly.

The viewing barely lasts before Mikey rests his head on Pete’s shoulder again, but this time he faces out the way. Pete assumes his eyes are closed until he feels a soft thrum of laughter sound from Mikey’s throat.

“Your friends are crazy,” he murmurs and Pete turns to watch Joe giving Gabe a piggyback and running around while Patrick is sitting on the floor, leaning back as he laughs. Andy speedwalks towards them, mirroring their excitement.

Pete focuses on them while Mikey presses his lips against his neck again, just below his jaw. There’s a slight sting and Mikey bites at one point, but Pete thinks nothing of it, just relishes in the sensation and smiles.

The current song fades out and Mikey releases Pete, smiling shyly before disappearing, mumbling about lemonade. Pete inhales deeply and decides to investigate what’s happening with his friends.

He approaches cautiously and grows confused because Gabe won’t stop shouting and Patrick is grinning like a fool. Even Joe and Andy, the only ones who appear calm, are fighting their own smiles.

“What?”

A tense silence ensues and Gabe is the only one brave enough to break it “These rolls are great.”

“All that ‘cause of rolls?” Pete raises an eyebrow, amused, and he opens his mouth but is interrupted by a gentle tap on his shoulder. He whirls around and is greeted with warm brown eyes behind fogged up glasses. His friends go strangely quiet.

“Can I sit here?” The question is directed at everyone and Joe immediately says “yes” a little too enthusiastically, and he grabs a chair for Mikey to sit on. Pete is next to him, and Joe notices that Mikey subconsciously leans towards him. Is that why he always leaned over the table at lunch?

Oblivious, Mikey sips on his lemonade and taps his fingers against his thighs, watching the remaining couples on the dance floor. However, Pete’s attention is occupied by his friends staring intently at him and Mikey. The song that’s playing hasn’t even reached the second chorus when Pete repeats the question he finds himself asking frequently tonight. “What?”

Conscious of Mikey’s presence, everyone stays silent until Gabe, ever the clueless one, blurts out “I’m loving this matching hickeys thing you’ve got going on,” without any consideration, and Pete doesn’t even react when Mikey stands up and backs off a little.

Joe does, though. He’s observant, always has been, and the worry in Mikey’s eyes doesn’t go unnoticed. “Why are you scared? You kiss in front of everyone but freak out when we ask about your hickeys? That’s a bit backwards.”

And though his boyfriend is increasingly more panicked by the second, Pete still can’t focus on a single thing after ‘ _matching hickeys’_. Mikey gave him a hickey? He’s never given hickeys before. That’s one of the rules, because Mikey is unpopular and nobody thinks twice about him, whereas everyone knows Pete is ‘single’ and will find out who put them there. It’s one of the first boundaries Mikey set Pete. Why did he break it without saying?

Then, Pete recalls the neck kissing on the dance floor, and how the last one felt a little achy compared to the rest. Is that when it happened? Is Mikey breaking down _every_ wall he’s built tonight?

Apparently so, because when Pete sheepishly murmurs, “You gave me a hickey,” Mikey blanks Joe’s questions completely and blushes before explaining to Pete that it felt right at the time.

“Does it not feel right anymore?” Pete jokes, relieved when none of his friends attempt to disturb this conversation.

“Dunno.” Mikey covers his face with his hands and whines between nervous laughter, gripping onto his own hair and flinching when Pete touches his back. Andy frowns, vowing to ask Pete the reason behind that once they’re alone.

Through a gap between his fingers, Mikey locks eye contact with Joe and giggles, lowering his head and taking a deep breath before sitting back up like nothing happened. “I don’t know,” he finally answers Joe before leaning into Pete’s touch.

“Don’t be scared. Not everyone will hate you,” Joe says passively, like it’s nothing important, but Pete guesses from the way Mikey tenses that it means a great deal to him. Given his home life, that doesn’t surprise Pete.

They sit together for a full hour, Pete wondering if their friend group now has a sixth member, before Mikey announces that he wants to leave. Nobody believes that he’s going home, especially when Pete announces he has to leave too, but the group walk them outside nonetheless. The sunset is picturesque and while the other three head back to the dance once they reach the school gates, Gabe offers to walk the couple to the end of the street. They oblige, so Gabe tags along and tries not to make his happiness for them too obvious.

The walk is pleasant and Mikey is holding Pete’s hand. At the end of the street, Gabe hands Pete his trophy for being the best dressed male. Pete looks quizzically at him.

“You clean up well. Truly a shocker, so you deserve this more than me. I am _always_ presentable,” Gabe teases and waves goodbye to the couple as he starts the journey back up the path. He manages about eight steps before Mikey calls after him.

“Hey! My boyfriend’s always presentable!”

Gabe responds with a booming laughter, raising his hand up to flip Mikey off. Mikey doesn’t see, because Pete already has him spun around to look directly at him. “ _Your_ boyfriend, huh?” His eyes glow in the fading sunlight, his smile brighter than ever, and Mikey kind of regrets keeping all of this under the radar for so long after seeing how ecstatic Pete is now. They should have been like this all the time, content in loving each other instead of the vagueness and weeks spent avoiding each other, or, more accurately, Mikey avoiding Pete.

“I did say one day you’d be mine.” Mikey smiles at the ground. “Walk and talk?”

Without asking, Pete holds Mikey’s hand and crosses the road, going in the complete opposite direction from their houses. They don’t know where they’ll end up, but at least they’re talking together, and they talk about a lot of things. How Mikey is convinced he did everything wrongly, how Pete doesn’t care as long as they’re together, how Mikey is annoyed that Pete’s friends finished the cinnamon rolls before he had the chance to taste one.

They walk for a mile and a half, hands intertwined, and Pete repeatedly uses light from the streetlights to ensure that this is real. Even when people pass them, Mikey holds on, although his head stays down the whole time. His voice is quiet and timid, which Pete thinks is the only normal thing that has happened between them tonight. He utilizes Mikey’s confidence to his advantage and kisses his cheek when there aren’t many witnesses around.

Mikey would smile but his mind is going at an untameable pace, fretting over how fucking _stupid_ he’s been, allowing Pete to give him the world endlessly whilst he gives nothing back. They’re about ten minutes away from the almost-forest when he anxiously vocalises his question. “Why didn’t you give up on me?”

Pete stops walking and his quick reply has Mikey wondering if Pete rehearsed his response. “’Cause I love you,” he says easily, “and we didn’t have to come out to be in love. Maybe now we can be more open, but we’re still gonna love each other the same, right? You don’t give up on someone ‘cause they’re scared of spiders or flying or heights. Why should I give up on you for being scared of telling someone? You’re meant to help the person you love get over their fears slowly, not guilt trip them into doing it unwillingly.”

This time when they head towards their destination, Mikey’s head is up and he doesn’t conceal his face when they cross paths with another person. One turns into well over twenty and Mikey shows no reaction to anyone. Pete is so shocked that the only action he can think of is to kiss Mikey, right here and right now, just because he can, because Mikey will _let_ him.

 _He might freak out,_ Pete’s mind gives him a reality check right as he leans in. He draws back immediately, unconscious of Mikey’s confusion.

Here isn’t like in the almost-forest where stars are visible through the trees. Here, light pollution from the city lights makes that impossible. The bustle of people means it’s hard for them to reach their forest quickly, but Pete is patient, and he reminds himself that he can kiss Mikey there.

But Mikey is tired of waiting. No sooner than Pete pulled back does Mikey grab him and unintentionally push him forward, kissing him breathless, and he doesn’t retract when a woman hisses an insult to them as she passes. Because one day, Mikey wants to be fearless, and he’s decided that today is that day.

**Author's Note:**

> Massive thank you to my friend @s2dvd2 for proof reading this <3   
> Thank you for reading!! Feedback's appreciated as always <3


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